A/N: As promised, the second chapter:)

Forest Fires

Chapter 2

Kurt wishes it could just happen, wishes he could just scream and cry and push himself into exhaustion.

But everything he is ... is trapped, trapped inside, under that thin, almost translucent, and still far too thick slab of numbness, holding the panic inside, keeping it cursing through him, like a buzzing electricity that does not energize but numb further, pounding all of him into a terrifying state of unresponsiveness.

It is, all over, like the time when his dad had still been fighting cancer; he had not been able to help what he had back then falsely thought to be bursts of OCD, not knowing it did not work like that. Nonetheless, he had not been able to help himself, had fought to occupy his mind - socks, sugar packs, colour schemes - keep it from putting him where he again is right now ..., trapped, forced to keep pushing that button on his phone over and over, unable to let go off it, off the hope in his hands. He cannot but refuse to let go.

But all the while, playing in his head is Carole King "... something inside has die and I can't hide and I just can't fake it."

And then there is a change ... and Kurt almost misses it, indeed does several times. Then, already about to push the button again ...

"... Kurt!"

Silence.

"Kurt, I swear if you push that button one more time and cut me off," when had Blaine started to answer? "I swear, I won't answer again, Kurt. ... Kurt?"

Blaine hears nothing but terrifying silence on the other end, then a stuttered out breath followed by a heavy, broken breathing sound, much closer this time, as Kurt turns off the speaker and hand shaking wildly all of a sudden, numb shell breaking, lifts the phone to his ear.

"Kurt?" Blaine whispers, worry growing as Kurt stays quiet.

"Bee?"

Kurt never uses that nickname anymore, well that is not completely true, but for the most part Kurt had only ever used it in the very beginning when he had needed Blaine in his life so much more badly than ever again since, back when Dave was still the bully he has not been in so long; and suddenly Blaine's hand, already clutching the phone harder, is shaking too.

As much as Blaine had loved the intimacy of that nickname, used by Kurt for the first time ever as he had cupped Blaine's cheek, after their second kiss ever, still out of breath from the kisses so quickly following each other, lunged into, and with excitement visible on his face had breathed out "Bee."

Blaine had never meant to suggest he wanted the Kurt back who had whispered that same nickname countless times down a phone line, too much distance between him at Dalton still and Kurt back already at McKinley. Blaine had just wanted to, '...just me being as sure of myself again as I had been back then.'

"Bee," it is a whisper now, full of doubt and sadness.

Blaine knows this sound all too well, pressed and barely audible ... it is the sound of not just any panic, but one of Kurt's later panic attacks the kind that has nothing to do with Dave.

The kind that had started the day Kurt had looked into his bathroom mirror, and all the wounds from the attack in that alleyway in New York had had healed completely to the bear eye, even his own fingertips touch, Blaine's too, but not the boy beneath, still strong, but ... changed. Afraid in a way he had not admitted to his dad, had not needed to, feeling empowered still in that moment by what he had done, had dared to do.

It had been the aftershocks of having had to do that, to stand up for himself and Blaine, and Elliott, Dani, Santana, Brittany and everyone else he knows who is not that average Jane or Joe that people for some reason feel more comfortable around still in so many parts of the world.

And Blaine had had no idea what had been happening when he had come home that day, unlocked the door to their apartment, just the two of them, just theirs now ... and found ... and found:

All curtains are drawn, not a speck of daylight filtering in anywhere. "Kurt?" Blaine calls into the dark, slowly broken by the lamp he has just turned on. "Kurt?"

No answer.

As he walks closer to their bedroom and pulls the curtain fabric apart still there to separate the space from their living room, to keep it from the prying eyes of casual visitors, Blaine's eyes find his boyfriend, curled up small and shaking wildly under the covers. Two extraordinarily huge strides and Blaine is by his fiancee's side. "Love? What's wrong?"

The only answer is an increase in the shaking as sobs being to break forward and won't stop again.

"Hey, hey, shhh. Kurt. You are scarring me, please tell me what's wrong."

"Bee," and Blaine knows then, none of it matters right now. He quickly strips to his undershirt and boxers, and after getting their favourite quilt out and spreading it over the bed, carefully over Kurt's still shaking form, he climbs under the covers with him. Pulls Kurt into his arms, and holds on tight, like he used to do for Kurt after he had transferred back, all those afternoons, of having to go home alone after a day of McKinley, then, after knowing different, knowing that there is better out there ... so much harder to stand. It had been so hard for Kurt to choose daily attacks over Blaine and Nick and Jeff, Trent.

"Kurt," Blaine tries again as his boyfriend grows quiet in his arms.

But the quiet turns into an overbearing silence, and the boy in his arms, despite the extra covers and Blaine's own body heat so close grows cold, unmoving.

It is the scariest thing Blaine has ever had to do, just stay and wait, give Kurt time.

But he cannot help but shift and try to catch Kurt's eyes. As soon as he does though Blaine wishes he had not. They are as cold and unmoving as the rest of the boy, looking right through Blaine, dull, glazed over.

As Kurt's eyes eventually fall closed and stay that way, Blaine thinks Kurt has fallen asleep, but his breath is more absent than tranquil and evened out, and that ... is when it happens. What Blaine takes to be a sudden intake of air, but has Kurt first curling up tighter in himself, then in a flash scramble up and out of Blaine's arms, launching himself towards the window leading out onto the fire escape. Fumbling with the handle, whining in frustration before doubling over with his chest heaving insanely fast, breaths cut off and shallow. It is a whizzing sound, "Bee."

Blaine is on his knees by Kurt's side as soon as he hears him asking for him.

"Can't ... can't breathe. ... Bee!" It is a desperate plea for help, to make it stop to make it ... "Make it stop. Bee. Make it stop."

Blaine looks around helplessly then reaches out and throws open the window helps Kurt outside.

He rushes back in to collect the quilt, and some extra warm socks for both of them, which he only gets Kurt to put on after twenty-three more minutes outside, first Kurt walking back and forth wildly, tears, streams and streams of tears rushing down Kurt's cheeks, breathing becoming first less than more of a labour again, but seventeen minutes later Kurt has exhausted himself, and is curled up again in Blaine's arms, wrapped in the quilt, still crying. "Why am I freaking out so much?"

Blaine does not say anything, but he feels like he has been waiting for it, ever since the moment he had curled up with Kurt on that hospital bed.

"Bee?"

Kurt is not looking for big words from him, Blaine knows, but a more honest kind of answer.

"I'm here, KK. Not going anywhere. We'll figure it out. We'll figure it out together."

And then he had been gone.

Then they had both gone their ways.

... ended up here, months later.

A sound that is more whizzing than still whimper finds Blaine's ears. His reaction is pure instinct.

Blaine is in his shoes, outside his building and in his car in less than two minutes – fumbling with the keys, trying to fit them into the ignition. It takes what feels absurdly long.

Blaine knows, driving while on the phone, one-handed ... the man opening the door to him fourteen minutes later, Blaine still dishevelled and in his PJ, jumper hazardly throw on, inside out and back to front ... this dead tired but still kindly at him looking man would kill him if he knew about him driving like that.

"Burt! I need to see Kurt."

"Blaine, Kid, it's almost four in the morning. He's asleep."

Blaine shakes his head vehemently, indicating the phone in his hand ... and still at his ear.

Burt is still frowning as he steps aside.

"Thank you," it is a call back towards the man closing the front door, as Blaine already sprints up the stairs.